They worked until dawn, putting together their case against Juliette Nicholson. As far as Lorena was concerned, Nicholson was a cold-blooded killer. She’d been the last one to see Sarchione alive. Nobody had ever found another single person who’d seen him that night. She’d bleached the video surveillance footage in his office. She’d been at the charity event where Linda Egglestein had been murdered in the alley. Lorena was planning on reviewing that footage of the party again. They hadn’t been looking for Juliette but her partner Dudek. Lorena hadn’t even noticed Nicholson in the crowd. She’d been present in the bar the other night, at Lou’s, owned by Sal where Spencer Adams had been last seen. She was neighbors with the woman at the lake who’d been murdered.
Jack was downstairs making fresh coffee. It was nearly eight o’clock. They’d worked all day yesterday in her office. They needed to get to the station and run this by their team and their captain. Lorena went down the hall to wake Grace. She paused at her door. When she went inside, she found her niece still asleep which was uncharacteristic of her. She must’ve stayed up late again worrying about Bob, no doubt.
“Hey, sleepy head,” she said, sitting on the edge of Grace’s bed. Lorena leaned down and pressed a kiss to her niece’s soft, warm cheek.
She rolled onto her back and yawned. “What time is it?”
“’Bout eight,” she told her.
“Oh, crap,” Gracie said. “I’m late for school.”
“No, school, babe,” Lorena corrected.
“Really?”
“Really,” she said and ran her fingers over Grace’s warm cheek. “Not until this is over, honey. I can’t take any chances, Grace.”
“Wow,” she said. “Is it gonna be a long time? Will I go back to school soon?”
Lorena nodded confidently. “Yeah, I think so. I think I’ve got her.”
“Her?” Grace asked with confusion as she sat up.
“Um, did I say her?” Lorena fumbled. “We’re close. Don’t worry about the details, ‘kay?”
“All right,” Grace answered.
Lorena stood and stretched her tired back.
“You look like crap, Aunt Lo,” Gracie complimented.
“Ouch,” Lorena said, feigning injured feelings. “If I keep hanging out with you, I’ll have no self-esteem.”
Gracie just laughed. She didn’t apologize. Lorena chuckled at her ornery niece.
“Mmm,” she said. “Smells good. What’re you cooking?”
“I’m not,” Lorena answered.
Sienna padded into Grace’s room, her head hanging low as if seeking approval. Grace squealed so loudly it hurt Lorena’s ears. Sienna took that as all the permission she needed. The dog bounded the rest of the way and vaulted onto her niece’s bed. Lorena groaned.
“Jack’s still here?”
“Yep,” she answered. “We worked all night.”
“He should just move in,” Grace suggested with all the seriousness and innocence of a fourteen-year-old girl.
“Um, sure, we’ll work on that,” Lorena said, ruffling her blonde hair. It was the same color as Sienna’s coat.
“Cool,” Grace replied. “You guys could have kids, too. Then I’d have step-brothers or sisters. That’d be awesome!”
“Hey, girls,” Jack said from the doorway. “Breakfast is ready.”
Lorena flushed a hot pink. She hoped he hadn’t overheard that conversation.
“You should move in, Jack,” Grace repeated excitedly as Sienna licked her cheek.
“What?” he asked with confusion as his gaze shot to Lorena.
“She’s hanging out with your sisters too much if you know what I mean,” Lorena told him, earning a shout of laughter.
“I’m gettin’ out of here,” he said and turned to flee.
Lorena laughed at his retreating back. They ate breakfast fit for a king. He’d made eggs, sausage, toast and pancakes. It was going to be a long day for them. It was going to be a long week for her and Jack. They had a massive case to present to a judge to get that search warrant on Nicholson’s house, her car and office. Their captain was going to have to win the judge over to their side. And then Craig over at the FBI needed to be kept abreast of their situation. She wanted his opinion, too. He was smart and Lorena trusted him.
“Hey, babe,” she said to Gracie before they left. “Keep this locked. Nobody comes in. Don’t go out. Don’t go to CC’s. I’m ok if she comes over after school, but you can’t go over there. You keep the alarm set and your pistol with you.”
“Can I even go out to take those cops some lemonade?”
“No,” Lorena said too harshly. “They bring stuff with them when they’re on assignments like this. They don’t need any damn lemonade.”
She felt bad instantly. Jack squeezed past her and Grace to go out to his Jeep so they could work out their issues. Lorena shook her head.
“Sorry, Gracie,” she apologized. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”
“It’s ok, Aunt Lo,” Grace forgave her with the genuine clemency that only children can offer. “I know you’re just stressed out.”
“Sorry,” she said it again because the look on her sweet niece’s face made her feel terrible. “Just stay inside with Sienna. No pool time, either. You can let her out to the bathroom but lock the door behind her. She’ll just have to do her business without you.”
“What if she runs off?”
“She won’t. Show her a piece of that leftover breakfast sausage as an incentive to come back,” she said with a wink.
Grace laughed. It was so much better than her beautiful blue eyes being filled with tears as they were a moment ago.
“Be careful,” Grace said and hugged Lorena tightly around her waist.
“You, too,” she said and kissed the top her blonde head. “I’ll call and check on you. If anything happens, hit the alarm and hide where you know to go.”
“Got it,” Grace said and pulled away.
There were a few secretive places in their home, installed by the builder upon her brother-in-law’s request, where Gracie could hide away until help arrived. Two were false walls and another a cubby in Grace’s room behind a sliding bookcase. All hidden rooms were equipped with a panic alarm that rang straight to the police department.
Lorena went to Jack’s Jeep where he stood waiting for her. She shook her head and hit the garage door opener.
“We’re taking my car,” she said. “I want Gingerbread to think you’re here keeping watch on Grace in case she decides to do another drive-by shooting. Let’s leave your Jeep in the driveway.”
“Good idea,” he said in agreement.
A moment later, Louise called to tell them that Bob was out of the woods, improving slightly and the doctors said he might be moved tomorrow to a regular floor. Her boys were relocated to a safe house until things died down. They were also going to be missing school and school activities including football. She promised to check on them later and stop by to visit with Bob.
Lorena drove her BMW and took them to the station where their captain was waiting for them in a conference room along with many detectives and plain clothes officers. Even some boys in blue were in there. They were waiting for her.
Lorena started pinning evidence and writing facts on the whiteboard for the rest of the room. Everyone was sitting with nervous energy waiting for her to tell them of her and Jack’s new theory. She laid it all out for them. Jack took turns talking, too and filled in where she left gaps. When they were done, the room fell silent.
Jeff Rancic’s partner scoffed and said, “Yeah, right.”
“What’s that, Chris?” Jack confronted him.
“There’s no way it’s a chick,” Chris said, chuckling.
Lorena rolled her eyes and went to the door, opened it and pointed for him to leave. Nobody argued. Jack closed in on him. Her captain just tipped his chin to Chris as if he should listen to her, and the rude, ignorant young man left in a huff. Jeff seemed relieved.
“So you think she killed Mr. Adams the other night, too, Lorena?” Jeff asked.
He’d diligently taken notes during their meeting and seemed interested to hear more.
“Yes, absolutely,” Jack related.
“I need that search warrant, sir,” Lorena said to her captain.
“I’m already on it,” he said and left the room.
She knew he’d get one a whole lot sooner than she could. If it came from him, a judge would be a lot more likely to grant it. They handed out assignment sheets to the other detectives to work leads and dig up more information on Nicholson. Then she and Jack went to their much smaller office to work together.
“We need a timeline on some of these murders. We’ve got to put her in the area on the other cases from the FBI files. We know she was at Sarchione’s. That’s her alibi. She wouldn’t implicate herself by being at his residence and admitting to it. That’s going to be her argument on that one. We’ve got her pegged for Linda Egglestein, and Mr. Adams the other night.”
Jack said, “We’ve also got some dirt on the lake house murder south of here. She killed the neighbor down there, but we need to figure out why.”
“Why? I don’t think she needs much of a reason. She’s nuts,” Lorena said.
“Allegedly,” he joked, to which she offered a sneer.
They worked for a while together, hitting on important ideas and making notes on the board. A call came in an hour later from a neighbor of Mr. Adams, who was reporting that he thought he saw a black Mercedes driving slowly through the neighborhood the same night as the murder. It was more proof that she was there.
Lorena announced at eleven o’clock, “I’m going to the gym. I’m burned out, Jack. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“I’ll come with ya’,” he said.
“What?” she asked with surprise.
“Yeah, I could use the workout,” he added and stood.
“Um… if you’re going because you think I need you to watch over me…”
“I’m not,” he said. “Besides, I’ve heard you can spar pretty well. I must admit, I could use an ass-kicking right now. Or I could give you one, partner.”
Lorena narrowed her gaze upon him. She was filled with incredulity at his comments. She was pretty sure he was babysitting her because of what happened to Bob.
“You could try,” she hinted as they left the room.
They both took the stairs to the basement where the locker rooms were located so they could collect their bags. She was surprised to find out that he had left one at the precinct, too. The gym wasn’t far, so she always changed in the locker-room and used the commute to get in a warm-up jog instead of driving there. He seemed fine with that, too. She changed into tight, black yoga leggings, a black sports bra trimmed in neon pink, a yellow tank top, and her black cross-trainers. Then she pulled on a navy blue hoodie and zipped it up.
“Ready?” he asked when she emerged from the women’s locker-room. He was leaning against the cement block wall wearing gray sweats and a black t-shirt.
Lorena just scowled at him but nodded. They left through the basement car garage and jogged to the gym. Lorena was frustrated, sickened by what happened to her partner. She needed to let off some steam. By the time they reached the gym, just a mile away, her heart rate had risen and she was ready for a good work-out.
Lorena started with a jump rope for ten minutes. She had no idea where Jack went. She had her iPod on very loud. She needed to get inside her head. She didn’t have time or patience for talking about the case. Her brain was fried. She just wanted to listen to hard rock and sweat. She pulled on sparring gloves and hit the bag for a while before a tap on her shoulder drew her attention. It was Jack. He hadn’t been teasing. He was drenched in sweat, so she knew he’d been exercising somewhere. He pointed to the boxing ring and led the way, simply expecting her to follow. Lorena wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. She had no idea if he knew anything about martial arts. She’d been studying for about four years.
She removed her earbuds and left her iPod with her bag. Once they were in the ring, Lorena circled Jack a few times with her hands raised. He was wearing punch mitts like a trainer instead of sparring gloves. She punched a few times at his hands, connected and ducked quickly as he threw an arm toward her head. Her reflexes were fast, but so was he.
“That all you got, Evans?” he joked, which pissed her off.
It didn’t take long before she was sweating. She punched, one-two-duck, repeated it many times.
“This is pathetic,” he mocked and shoved at her.
Lorena stumbled back and immediately regained her balance, coming up angry and fuming. Jack laughed at her. What the hell? He held out his hands as if to taunt her. He patted his flat stomach and threw his arms out to the sides again. Lorena took the bait and continued their practice. He was a lousy coach. She punched harder this time. Right-left-duck again, came up and did it again.
“What?” he asked in that mocking tone again. “No knees? No kicks? Sissy girl.”
He shoved at her again. She almost fell this time.
“Hey!” she shouted. Luckily they were the only two people in the gym at this hour.
“Hey, what? Quit fighting like a girl,” he said with anger. His face seemed so serious. His salt and pepper hair was curling on the ends where it was damp with sweat. His dark eyes were hooded and brooding. “You couldn’t beat Perry. No way. Don’t believe it.”
Lorena ran at him this time. She attacked full-on, no mercy. She kicked at his side, which he deflected. Threw punches, hitting his practice mitts. Brought her knees up, grabbed the back of his head. He punched down on her arms. Then he came hard at her. Swinging, pushing. She backed up a few fast steps and starting hitting his punch mitts again. He was faster this time with his swing. She ducked it even faster. She kicked. He deflected and swung on her. Lorena ducked low and punched high at the same time. Jack was fast, but she was smaller and faster. She’d connected with his stomach. It probably hadn’t hurt. It had felt like hitting steel. He was also a lot more skilled than she’d thought. They went on like this until they were both exhausted. Lorena spun quickly, did a low, sweeping kick at his legs, which he jumped over. Then she sprang to her feet and launched onto his back from behind, getting him in a choke hold. He shoved backward into the ropes. They both went down. Lorena quickly shifted into a full mount over his middle.
“I give!” he said with an expired laugh, flashing a full white smile at her. “You’re killing me!”
She punched him once in the shoulder and fell down onto the mat beside him also on her back, trying to catch her breath.
“You do throw cheap shots,” he said through panting breaths. “Perry was right.”
“Wimp,” she joked and rested her arm above her head.
“Better?” he asked and rolled toward her, leaning up on his elbow. Sweat dripped from his hair onto the mat. Dimples were peeking at her from both cheeks.
She caught his meaning. He’d done this on purpose. He’d fought her hard to help her release that pent-up anger and frustration. It had worked, too. She just felt tired, but her mind was clearer than before.
“That was exactly what I needed,” she admitted out loud. “It was probably what we both needed.”
He made a funny sound, drawing her attention. “I might need something else, but fighting with you will have to do for the time being.”
“Don’t be crude, Foster,” she said.
He sprang to his feet, extended a hand and yanked her up, too, as if she weighed the same as Gracie.
“Pervert,” he said, pulling her close for a second and leaning down to be eye-to-eye with her. “I meant that I need some of that great Greek food at Papacostas’s joint.”
“Oh,” she said, her cheeks reddening even more than they already were from the brutal workout.
“Get a shower, Evans,” he mocked. “I think I’ve got more of your sweat on me than my own.”
Her mouth dropped open with further embarrassment. Then Jack shook his messy mop at her, spraying Lorena with his sweat.
“Gross!” she yelled.
They jogged back to the precinct where they both grabbed showers and clean clothing. Then they ordered take-out from Mr. Papacostas. Their captain came in as they were finishing to let them know he had the search warrant in hand.
“That was fast,” Lorena said through a mouthful of baklava. It was heavenly sweet and salty at the same time.
Jack was already reaching for his jacket by the time she got her take-out container closed.
“Let’s roll,” he said to her.
Gone was the teasing manner from the gym. He was all business now. They drove with a team of forensics nerds, two squad cars with their lights going to speed them through congested traffic, their S.W.A.T team, and a host of detectives. Craig was also going to meet them at Nicholson’s apartment by the lake. Lorena sat quietly reviewing her notes while Jack drove her car. She was nervous. This could be a big mistake. If it was, she could lose her job over this. But from the beginning of this case, something about had felt wrong. It was. They’d been looking for a man instead of what was so obvious and right in front of their eyes. If she was right, Nicholson had relied on them doing just that. She was intelligent, beyond anything Lorena had come up against before. She’d caught quite a few killers over the years, even a few serials because Cleveland was never short of them, but she’d never met someone as smart and cunning as Juliette Nicholson. She’d been educated in a private school all through her junior years, attended an Ivy League college and law school and had graduated at the top of her class. Her family was extremely wealthy and owned homes in different areas of the country. Her father was a very respected attorney in New York and was known for being the best defense lawyer in the city. His reputation preceded him. Lorena hoped he was better than that. His daughter was going to need a good lawyer soon. Her brother was also a brilliant lawyer, too, but worked for the prosecution. That had to add some family tension at the table sometimes. Their family probably had all the same issues that every other family did. Most just didn’t have a serial killer among them.
However, the more Lorena dug up on Mrs. Nicholson, the less she was surprised. Juliette’s mother was every bit the person Lorena suspected she would be. It fit her profile for Nicholson to a tee. Her mother was beautiful, likely shallow, involved in New York City’s high society clubs, and from what she could tell, possibly an alcoholic. It had been difficult to find, but Mrs. Nicholson had been in rehab, twice. Juliette probably hated her. There was a photograph of her with her father in the paper that Lorena found on the internet. She’d been smiling with genuine feeling. It had been nothing like the shot with her mother. She was definitely killing her mother every time she killed women.
They pulled right to the curb of Juliette’s building and got out. She was lead on this. If her suspect was in the building, she’d be brought to the station for questioning while they tossed her car and home for evidence. Perry came over to her and Jack and offered a firm nod. His team was also ready.
They went inside, flashed their badges and the search warrant to the front desk security guard, who promptly came around the counter to greet them. She already knew from Nicholson’s secretary that she was out of town for work, but it could’ve been a lie. She could be upstairs waiting for them with an Uzi, which was why S.W.A.T. was tagging along. Being out of town was probably a cover story so she would have an alibi for shooting Bob.
“This is for Ms. Nicholson?” he asked nervously. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, why?” Lorena asked. Most building managers, doormen, and security guards could tell a cop more about a suspect than their own mothers. “Is she here? Do you have the spare set of keys?”
“No, ma’am. We don’t keep keys. It’s one of the building’s rules,” the young man said quickly. “I’m just surprised is all.”
“Why?” Lorena asked again, nodded her head to S.W.A.T. to indicate she needed a door buster as the guard took them to the elevator and swiped a card. The security was tight in the sleek high-rise.
“Just strange,” he explained. “She’s a good tenant. Very respectful, nice, like super-hot, too.”
He blushed as the door swished open.
“Thanks,” Lorena said and took the elevator swipe card from him. She’d let someone else interview the young security guard who was infatuated with Juliette. If he only knew.
They rode the elevator to the top floor. Her apartment was only one of two on the entire floor. Her need for privacy was of the utmost importance. Jack knocked and announced them. No answer. Not surprising to Lorena. She waved her guys through to bust the door handle so they could get in. After a few hard knocks with the battering ram, she had to stand aside so another member of the S.W.A.T. team could work it a different way. It took them a while, but they eventually breached. They let themselves into Nicholson’s apartment unimpeded. S.W.A.T. went first in case she was in there and armed. It was obvious she wasn’t home.
Before entering all the way, Lorena took a second to take in the apartment from a criminal investigator’s point of view. It was like a cold, industrial building. Grays, blacks, whites, nothing of color or soft lines or a vase of flowers anywhere. No pictures on the walls, but exposed metal trusses in the ceiling, a glass wall of windows on the other side of the room. It was stark and desolate. It looked as if nobody even lived there.
“What’s that smell?” Jack asked.
Lorena smelled it, too. She scanned her surroundings quickly, noting the sterile aesthetic of the expansive apartment. She had a great view of the lake. Floor to ceiling windows surrounded the entire space. They weren’t three steps in when Lorena heard a loud whoosh. At once, the air was gone from the room, all of the oxygen. Jack grabbed her, shoved her back out into the hallway. A loud boom went off in her ear as a flame shot out of the door which propelled her and Jack into the cement block wall behind them. They fell in a tangled heap with some of the other team members. She was nearly knocked unconscious. She hit her head and could feel blood running down her face. Everything was moving in slow motion. Fire was all around her. Jack was lying half on top of her in a protective manner. He slowly pushed upward. He came to his knees with the help of another detective. Then he squatted back down quickly and slid his hands under her armpits to haul her to her feet. She felt wrung out like a rag doll. Her ears were ringing. Flames were licking the door frame and trying to take hold on the cement blocks in the hallway. Jack was shouting in her face, but Lorena couldn’t hear him. All she heard was a stone dead silence like a black void. He was covered in gray dirt or debris or something. It was all over his face, only the whites of his eyes and teeth showing. She probably looked the same. He pulled her along with him toward the elevator. Once inside with some of the other officers, a faint whistling sound impeded her deafened state. Jack took off his jacket and pressed it to her head.
“Ouch,” she cried and tried to pull away from him.
His mouth was moving again but she still couldn’t hear his words. After a few moments, though, she could hear something. It was like he was standing at the other end of a tunnel trying to call to her. It seemed like he was ordering her to hold still.
By the time they reached the bottom floor again, Lorena could hear just a little. Jack talked to her non-stop as if she could hear him just fine.
“…it’ll go away…” he shouted, although it came through as a foggy whisper to her battered ears.
She looked around at the other officers, one of whom was helping keep her on her feet. They were all covered with debris and gray dirt and soot.
“What happened?” she whispered weakly.
“Gas leak, Detective,” one of the younger members of S.W.A.T. shouted to her, knowing she couldn’t hear well.
She touched her left ear, which hurt more than the right. She pulled back her fingertips to find blood on them. Jack grabbed her hand and stilled her trembling fingers. She looked up at him. There was a cut on his cheek, and something had peppered his other cheek because it bled from tiny puncture wounds.
“It’ll pass, Evans,” he shouted with worried eyes. “You’re just shell-shocked a little. You ok? You with me?”
Why would he ask that? Where else was she gonna’ go? And then she did. It was the second time that her new partner had to catch her when she blacked out. It was becoming a bad habit.